


Waiting

by penny



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penny/pseuds/penny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's...not a routine, not exactly. Sometimes, she comes back from a mission, and he's waiting, the traps she'd set to guard her door and windows undisturbed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> For the Porn Battle IX prompt _Ibiki/Anko, scar_

It's...not a routine, not exactly. Sometimes, she comes back from a mission, and he's waiting, the traps she'd set to guard her door and windows undisturbed. Or dismantled and reset. She wouldn't put that past him. It's a way to keep his skills sharp and mess with her head, and Ibiki can't resist his mind games.

"Back again, huh?" She throws the darts she'd readied when she sensed an intruder, deliberately missing, so they hit the wall over his shoulders.

He doesn't flinch, doesn't try to dodge, either. The moment they've hit, he's moving to meet her, easily blocking her blows. She's exhausted. Her form is pitiful. And she doesn't really want to win.

"My, Anko," he says when he manages to sweep her feet out from under her. She lands hard on her back, and he steps on her wrist to keep her from flicking out more darts. "It's not like you to be so sloppy."

"Like you're any better." He's not trying that hard, either. The pressure on her wrist is light, and it's easy enough to twist out from under him and regain her feet.

He flashes her a quick, faint smile. "I just want it to be an even match."

"Yeah?" She's tired from fighting her way out of an ambush, sore from carrying an injured teammate back to the village, drained from using too much Chakra. And she's a little worried that her curse seal aches, because she hadn't sensed Orochimaru's presence.

They stare at each other for a beat. He's waiting for her to press another attack -- that's how these encounters go -- and she...she just doesn't have it in her. She's tired of always having to hide everything, a little resentful Ibiki can see through her defenses.

He crosses the distance to her, three quick steps, and...well, there comes a point when training takes over. So she manages a defense. Ibiki still holds back -- seems he doesn't want to win, either -- until she loses patience and forces him back to her bed. She's not quite sure how she ends up straddling him, but from Ibiki's little smirk, he's satisfied with the outcome.

"Don't look so smug," she says, pinning his hands over his head.

"Come on, Anko." He hitches his hips so she can feel how hard he is. "You can do better than this."

He is challenging her, or perhaps toying with her, because she knows he can easily break free. She straightens up and lets go of his wrists. He leaves them crossed over his head, and now the challenge is clear in his eyes. So she doesn't feel guilty about unknotting his headscarf.

His expression doesn't change. Anko traces the burn scars on his head, her touch light. She's never removed his headscarf before, though she has seen the scars. He shows them to people when he needs to prove a point.

She leans down. He moves his hands then, catches her chin, brushes his thumb over her lower lip. She nips at it, lets him guide her down into a kiss. So, no licking those scars. Too bad. She wonders if she could have made him flinch like she had the first time she traced the ones cutting across his face. She tongues at the one near his mouth, and he makes a little sound that could be pleasure or pain.

She follows the line of the scar down his chin, nudges his collar aside to mouth at his neck. He shifts, putting that hand back up over his head, and lets her work loose the fastenings to his vest, his pants, her skirt.

She has her mouth over his pulse point, and she feels it spike as she rubs against him. She's not quite wet enough for him, but feeling him hard between her folds but not in her, feeling his pulse and breath quicken makes her body respond, and it's not long before she _is_ wet enough for him.

But it feels too good like this. For both of them, apparently, because he moans and thrusts his hips. So she keeps sliding along him, bites his neck when she comes, keeps riding him through another trembling orgasm until he finally tenses and comes.

She thinks he whispers her name. But that would make this more than not exactly a routine. So she pushes that thought aside and rests her head on his shoulder. He'll stay until she falls asleep, leave before she wakes up, and that's fine with her, because the next time she needs him, he'll be here waiting.


End file.
